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Damned Elves
Journey The ride to Warden’s Gate had been one that Evaerus had hoped to be quiet and peaceful, that he might reflect upon the events of Valrose. It was no such thing. Before the city had left the horizon, he and Illiv were approached by the thin, graceful fighter, Zeeno. Evaerus had noted in his earlier reconnaissance that Illiv had taken an interest in the man, but had never gotten the chance to ask why. Now he never would, for almost immediately after the fighter rode aboutside them he and Illiv began to verbally joust in what Evaerus could only see as a very political variant of a lunatic’s rambling. Their banter started as “Death, don’t go so soon! Hah, I bet you don’t hear that very often, do you?” '' ''“More often than you might think.” '' and quickly devolved into a discussion about upside down trees. Or something. Evaerus went elsewhere. ****************** ''“Darling, that man is a good one. He’ll lead us right where we need to be, won’t he?” “Yes, love. I think so.” “I had to just sit here and ''watch ''all those lovely fights. Illiv fights beautifully, don’t you think? And Greyne…why wouldn’t you let me meet him, Darling?” “I’m no fool, Love. I’m so sorry.” ***************** The two spoke nearly nonstop until dusk, when they set camp in a thick wood that Illiv had insisted on traversing in order to save time. Several times Evaerus had attempted to interject himself into their conversation, or even to introduce himself to Zeeno, but each time he had been artfully deflected to the tune of almost girlish giggling from the other two. The entire day passed in a surreal haze, and more followed. ***************** “Are you jealous? Lonely? Do you miss your home?” '' ''All she was was battle. “How could I ever be, when all I could ever want is right here on my back?” “Haha.” ****************** Illiv looked upwards often. Sunlight shimmering down through translucent greenery made him content and grateful for the gifts that the gods had given man. The gift of existing at all. Zeeno had, as usual, worn him out. Their verbal sparring was entertaining, but as he had hinted to the other man, it was not he who spoke, but rather a ghost, a memory. He was a zombie, staring at leaves and existing, held close to the bosom of a flowery grave. Time meant nothing to him like this. He walked, and walked, and trusted Evaerus to know where to go. The thought crossed his mind that he should be more attentive, and that doing otherwise was a disservice to his mission and therefor the gods. Very well. He looked down, and around. Evaerus often spoke to himself. Zeeno’s silences seemed less comfortable than Illiv’s. Sticks cracked as they walked, this path was not a common one. He thought about Evaerus. He had insisted, unsuccessfully, that they avoid main roads or towns, he was a cautious man. The opposite of Botard, who had given Illiv an impression as a reckless man, though Illiv knew not how. Perhaps divine inspiration. Either way, Evaerus was cautious and it was good that he was. Illiv was not. At each town he searched the eyes of people, and with no fear he cajoled them with the mystical words of his Goddess. Zeeno watched these excursions of Illiv’s with a sharp interest. The man was bold, startling, and very clever. Look at my peace, my confidence. Wouldn’t you like something similar? Wouldn’t you like to feel as though your life mattered, as though you were greater than a peasant in a field? Wouldn’t you like to be chosen? He played on insecurities and sold them the drug of buying, the intoxicant of a new mystery. All you have to do to join, is say that you join. That and try to avoid fuck corpses and praising the Forsaken. But when we call on you, to do something small, to deliver some crops as an offering, answer. We’ll trade you validation, flattery, and ego. He watched the crowds that Illiv drew. There were only three types of people. There were cynics, whose claims of reality and its dreary truth were met with a pious wall of zealous faith and promises of a happier tomorrow. Their arguments were dismissed with humor and humility. There were the dumb and mute, who feared to disservice the gods, who would follow a badger holding a flag. Lastly, there were the young and violent, full of energy and rebellious spirit. Occasionally Zeeno would offer himself as a fourth sort of observer, a foil to Illiv, cheery and chipper, and full of humor. Illiv always played his part and joked along, as though the two played a show, and none of the townsfolk seemed to think it strange. For them, each aspect of life deviating from the ordinary had turned into a performance, a show. Such was the blessing of common men. ***************** Illiv paused briefly. He had been paying close attention to his whereabouts, to his surroundings, for some time in this stretch of hilly woods, and he had seen that tree before. The one whose dead branch resembled a gnarled hand, calling up to the gods. “Evaerus.” Broad, armored shoulders turned, and a stoic face raised an eyebrow. “Yes?” “Why are we going in circles?” Zeeno stopped quickly in his tracks. “Wait what?” Evaerus scurried down a leafy slope and called to the others “This way, one moment.” They arrived at last morning’s camp. “Oh, did we forget something?” Zeeno looked around. “Nope. But someone stole the book I left here.” He put his hands on his hips and scanned the camp. “We’re definitely being followed.” “It could have well been another traveler just casually took it. Perhaps they needed something to read.” Illiv sat on a stump. “Or maybe a squirrel took it, and he’s going to preach the word of the Vix Agarra to his little squirrel friends,” Mused Zeeno. “Well, as nice as that would be, squirrels can’t carry books, and this traveler didn’t leave any tracks.” He tilted his head to the sky and scratched his beard “Plus, I’ve just had a gut feeling that we’ve been watched…” Illiv closed his eyes and thought. Evaerus continued “We’ve drawn a lot of attention lately. I can’t fathom why anyone would want to follow us, unless one of us has some secrets they’re hiding,” He looked at Zeeno, who just smiled back “but maybe we should calm down on the zeal, Illiv.” Zeeno’s smile never left. “After all, people are crazy.” Illiv stood up. “I don’t think so. Anyway, let’s go on. There can’t be many people following us. We’ll take some turns watching at night until we’re certain they’ve gone.” The moon was bright and wide, and its white light gently glided down about the forest, making everything soft and silver. Sapientia loved it. She sat with her back against a stump, facing a large uprooted tree, knowing she should sleep, but having no desire to close her eyes to such a lovely night. The gentle crunching of a large creature stepping about the leaves caught her attention, and she wondered briefly if it might be a stag, or some other significant beast. She slowly tipped forward into a crouch, and peered between the upended roots of the large tree, towards the sound. She saw a man, clad in tight fitting forester’s garments holding a dead hare. A curved sabre rested at his hip and a thick dark beard and fierce face held her from approaching. She simply sat and watched. He looked over his shoulder frequently as he moved. He fears being seen… He left her field of vision, heading towards Illiv’s camp. It’s almost a mile away, but still…it can be no coincidence. ''She thought about the small leather bound book in her bag and thought about the fierce looking man. ''Twice now, curiosity will force me into recklessness. '' She moved slowly, still in a crouch, in the direction that he had headed. She caught sight of him again after only a few dozen feet. He was bent over, focused upon something on the ground in front of him. She waited patiently. He rose, and began to move back in the direction he had come from. She laid flat among the ferns and small plants, and waited for him to pass her. She waited several minutes until she could no longer hear his footsteps among the leaves before standing up and moving towards the spot where he had crouched. There lay the rabbit he had carried on his way there, caught in a small snare hanging from a small log. She gently picked it up and inspected it. It looked as though it had died there, though she remembered it laying limp in his hands as he had carried it before. ''Maybe he’s putting it back? She thought, and thought and the puzzle thrilled her. She awoke to the sound of crisp dry sticks, breaking under metal boots, and her heart caught in her throat. Adrenaline shot through her veins and she crawled on all fours parallel to the fallen log, and rolled towards a tree, interposing it between her and the sound of the visitor. He did not hesitate in his footsteps, yet she was sure he must have heard her movement. She peaked low around the tree, watching as Evaerus, clad in full armor, scruffy and tired, bent and inspected the snare. “Violence was here, Darling…” '' '' He looked up while crouching, scanning the area, suspicious, but he shrugged, and untied the rabbit, and the snare, carrying both back to camp. Sapientia bit her lip, thoughts racing through her mind, and after an instant of hesitation she rushed forwards, calling out loudly. “Wait!” The man had a massive black ax in his hands in the time it took him to turn around. Suddenly his previous weary faced transformed into a feral visage of rage as he faced her now. “State your name and business,” he snarled. She remained calm. “Sapientia Vita is my name, and my business is with that rabbit.” “Elf…” He let the words drip down his lips like fresh blood. “A man placed it in your snare. He may have poisoned it.” She made eye contact with him then, and for the first time since following him and Illiv she felt a shudder of fear. She felt something there, something alien and horrible watching her. She calmly unslung Veritas. She gripped its golden shaft with white knuckles, and began to pace in a circle around him. Stop. But suddenly, Evaerus transformed. That horror in his eyes left, and he holstered his ax. Sapientia felt adrenaline-heavy limbs fall to her side. “I was rash. Why don’t you join our camp and we can talk more about this man?” he motioned for her to follow. She retained her composure as she followed him “Absolutely.” “So what is an elf doing all the way out in the middle of Gildor?” She could still sense a latent hint of malice as he spoke the word “elf” and wondered what could have caused his animosity. “I like to travel more than the majority of my kin. I enjoy seeing new places, learning.” Evaerus grunted “I think you’ll enjoy speaking to my friend, he…he agrees strongly with those sentiments. I think.” She watched him scratch a tangled brown beard. She composed her thoughts as they walked, trying to decide if she should admit to having followed them all this time. It was hardly a crime, and she had probably saved their lives, hadn’t she? She knew what her teachers would have said. Before she knew it, she had reached their camp. The two other men, Illiv and Zeeno, sat opposite a small fire. Zeeno faced away, ripping small pieces of bread and tossing them into the woods. Illiv stared into the fire, looking in the direction of Evaerus and Sapientia only when Evaerus spoke. “Illiv. I’ve news.” Illiv glanced up and immediately made eye contact with Sapientia. Here in the woods his face was painted sloppy, smeared black and grey formed a more intimidating pattern on his face. A blurred, damaged skull, two beams of judgement cast from its sockets. Dry cracks showed through the paint as he spoke. “The one who tracks us?” He stood up. Sapientia noticed that Zeeno still did not move. These people are not very welcoming to newcomers… “Actually, no. This is Sapientia, Sapientia, this is Illiv. And that over there is Zeeno. Anyway, she claims that a man tried to poison us last night.” “Yes. He had dark hair and a thick beard, as well as a curved sabre at his side. He placed that rabbit inside the snare that Evaerus had set. I thought it seemed unusual, and reasoned that he might mean you harm.” Illiv analyzed the newcomer. She was tall, and well composed, and Illiv struggled to try to recall where he felt he had seen her before. Perhaps she was in that last village we stopped by? '' But suddenly Illiv remembered. The item wrapped in cloth upon her back, it was a golden staff. She had fought at Valrose, if only briefly. She had baffled him with her ferocity, and matched him blow for blow. Their matches had been quick, both fighting reckless and fast. Evaerus spoke before Illiv got a chance to mention his previous connection with her, “I can’t imagine why anyone would wish us ill, but nor can I reason why she would be lying. It does seem unusual for an elf to be out here in this part of Gildor though, and like a chance happening that she should see this attempted poisoning.” Illiv decided to wait and see how she responded, and a brief silence came. He noticed that the elf did not seem to mind. “Well, I have been following you for some time,” the elf admitted. “You seemed interesting. And you mentioned the place of the ashen elves, my cousins…” She seemed to falter for a moment, but Zeeno interjected, suddenly becoming interested in the conversation. “And are you the person who took the book?” he held out the loaf of mostly stale bread in his clutches “And here I’ve been trying all morning to catch the thief squirrel that did it!” There was laughter, and Illiv rose, extending a hand. She took it. “I recognize her as a fighter from Valrose, if I’m not mistaken. I can’t wait to hear your story.” Evaerus rose next and introduced himself with an iron grip. ''He seems unusually tense. Zeeno loped over and bowed deeply before taking her hand and kissing it. “I am just Zeeno, oh mystical lady of the woods.” He spoke, as he frequently did, through a grin. ''Such interesting company you’ve given me, Unquala. '' Category:Character lore